SLIPPERY LITTLE SNAKE

*Fiamette* · 03-26-2015, 04:36 PM

It seems she will not be left in peace for long. Before she can lay down and become comfortable, another wolf begins to approach her, so she instantly halts her sitting motion. She stands there and waits for the stranger to do something, wondering if that black wolf had sent another to do his bidding. The first thing she regards is Apollyon, and Fiamette can't help the humorless laugh that seeps from her jaws. Why were the gods sending her pathetic egotistic wolves to play with? "He only bites on command." She counters, the corners of her lips curling into a devilish sneer. She'd love to see another wolf attempt to kill her prized possession.

The wolf momentarily sits in front of her, but Fiamette does not move. She questions her colors, something she is used to considering she's graced with blood red fur. When she stands to make an attempt at curling her, Fiamette follows her movements, ensuring her back is never turned toward this intruder. Genetics are a marvelous thing. She responds. When the stranger speaks again, she laughs. "And why should I be concerned for my safety? Emphasis is put on the word I and my, for she sees no reason to be concerned about her safety. If this woman honestly though she could overpower her she was sadly mistaken.

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